


Have Yourself A Merry LITTLE Christmas

by Taelr



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Basically just so much fluff, Because I still cry about everyone we've lost, Christmas Fluff, Kid!Stiles, Multi, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Teen!Derek, The pack turns into kids again, everyone lives au, it might rot your teeth and make you sick tbh, it's so sweet and funny, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1746152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taelr/pseuds/Taelr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Derek wakes up in his teenage body and the entire pack wake up as little kids. It only lasts a day, but a lot can happen in a day, can't it? Derek wasn't cut out to be a babysitter, but he does a pretty good job, all things considered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have Yourself A Merry LITTLE Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> First, please let me say: I know it's not Christmas. I know that it is not even remotely close to Christmas. But I had my music on shuffle and a Christmas song came on and the inspiration for this popped into my head and I couldn't resist. So here. Have some Christmas-y, happy pack feels and so much kid!Sterek fluff it's probably painful to read.   
> You're welcome.  
> I am my own beta so any and all mistakes are mine. Feel free to point them out if you see any!

Derek knew something was wrong right away. He opened his eyes and could practically smell puberty on himself, and that was just . . . Well, it was frightening. And sort of nauseating, because he was brought back to his teenage years in the worst way. He sat up, frowning, and froze when he saw his body; it wasn’t the built, filled-out body he was accustomed to. Oh no. This body was gangly and lean, and he knew immediately that it was his, but it wasn’t his from the present. No. This had to be his body when he was about, what, fourteen? He stared down at himself in horror for about five seconds before he all but launched himself out of bed, hurrying into the bathroom and locking himself inside. Sure enough, the mirror greeted him with a familiar but frightening image; too-big ears, eyebrows that he hadn’t grown into yet, buck teeth and the softer, rounder face of someone who wasn’t yet a man. Thank god he was a werewolf and had never gotten pimples.

He stared at himself for a while, and then he glanced at the door. How the hell was he supposed to explain this to the pack? How the hell had this even happened? It was Christmas Eve morning, and the whole pack was gathered at the restored Hale house for the holidays. Everyone was going to go home to their parents or families if they had them on Christmas, but said families all understood the importance of pack, so all the teens were here with Derek. And all of them were sure to make fun of him if they saw him like this. Even if they could help him reverse it, they’d all have a good laugh first.

He had just decided on staying locked in the bathroom forever when he heard it. A high-pitched wail that could only have come from a child. Then again, he wouldn’t put it past Stiles to make such an odd noise, but it was definitely a sound of distress. So he opened the door without thinking, rushing to the aid of whatever pack member needed him and stopping in his tracks when he got into the living room, where everyone was camped out on the couch and behind it and across the floor. Because while his pack was there waiting for him, they weren’t themselves, either. They seemed to have gotten it _worse_ than Derek had. Where Derek was fourteen or so, the pack all looked like they were about four or five years old. It was Jackson who had made the noise, incidentally, and he stood up and ran to Derek – toddled, more like – looking panicked. Derek didn’t know what was more disturbing; the sheer fury on the child’s face in front of him, or the fact that Jackson suddenly said in a very childish but still an articulate voice, “Dude. What the fuck?”

Jackson’s squalling had roused everyone else, and Lydia started bawling a moment later. Derek moved to sit on an empty space on the couch, just staring. Lydia and Jackson ran to each other, scanning each other and beginning to screech and whisper in unison. Isaac sat up and rubbed his eyes, scratching his head and tousling his blond curls in the process before he saw Derek and sat bolt upright. “Oh man,” he squeaked. “Look at you!” Then he frowned and looked down at himself, and he quickly followed with, “Look at me!”

Derek couldn’t look away. “I’m looking,” he promised. It occurred to him just about then that they were all naked. Or close enough, anyways. Jackson was running around in circles, screeching and nearly tripping over his t-shirt, which was much too large for him and hung down almost to his feet. Lydia had craftily removed her pillowcase and folded it around herself in a toga of sorts, and Isaac – who hadn’t worn a shirt to sleep – squealed when he realized that he was naked and ducked back under his blanket. Scott just sat there, covered only by the too-big underwear that was somehow still on his body, and blinked at everyone else. Allison sat up beside him, clutching her blanket around her so that she was curled up in it and covered, and she and Scott started whispering nervously. Erica and Boyd crawled out from behind the couch. Boyd was wearing his shirt – thank god – and Erica, of course, was completely naked because she just didn’t care. Both of them came over to sit at Derek’s feet and fix him with questioning stares, and that was about when Derek realized that someone was missing.

_Stiles_.

Derek looked around somewhat frantically, but he stopped and let out an actual sigh of relief when something poked his leg and he looked down. Stiles was curled up there beside him, buried in a nest of blankets and clothing that was now too big for him, and he blinked a few times before smiling dopily up at Derek. “You look different,” he slurred, obviously not yet completely awake. He frowned some, but the effect was ruined by a huge yawn. “Younger,” he muttered. Then he blinked a few more times, looking down at himself and looking slightly annoyed. “Huh,” he said, eyes trailing around the room as if he hadn’t heard Jackson and Lydia’s wailing and Scott and Allison’s loud, hissing whispers before now. “That’s . . . Guess we’re all younger.” He looked thoughtful rather than only somewhat annoyed, and then he smirked. “You should probably see if you can find us some clothes, dude,” he said, poking Derek with his foot.

Derek sighed and nodded, looking down at his own too-big clothes. He considered calling Melissa or the sheriff, but then he decided that it might not be a good idea to bring them into this and make them worry, too. So he nodded again, standing up suddenly. Everyone in the room fell silent, even Jackson, which . . . Well, that was rare.

“I don’t know what’s going on or how this happened,” he said, pausing before he added, “or how to fix it. In the meantime I don’t want you all tripping over shirts or running around naked, so I’m gonna go and buy some clothes for you, I guess.”

He raised his eyebrows when Lydia walked up, still clinging fiercely to her toga, and said, “I’m coming with you.”

He frowned and started to shake his head, but she was already talking.

“No. I’m coming. I’m the only one here with any bit of fashion sense, and we’re all _children_ now. Someone with know-how needs to pick out acceptable clothing for us all. Then we can call Deaton or do whatever the hell you want to do to figure this out.”

Derek shrugged. “Fair enough. But what are you going to wear _to_ the store if you don’t have any clothes?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she moved to her bag, unzipping it with some trouble and digging around for a while before she held up a shirt that looked like it might actually fit her as a dress. Provided she had a belt, which of course, she did. When everyone stared at her with questioning looks, she said defensively, “What? It’s stretchy. It fits my teenage self, but it shrinks when you take it off. It’ll have to work for now.”

So Derek went to the store and took Lydia with him, and he didn’t know who to leave in charge at home so he just told them all to watch TV until he got back. Two hours later they were finally done shopping and Lydia said they could go home, so they did. They took all of the clothes they’d bought and set them out, a pile for the guys and a pile for the girls, and then everyone dove in and started picking things. Lydia let them, but then she pulled out the extra bag of clothes. “We’re probably not going to be leaving the house like this,” she said as she started taking fuzzy fabrics out of the bag, “So I made Derek buy us onesies. They’re really cozy.” They’d also bought socks and underwear for everyone, so all the kids were decked out.

Derek was amazed by how fast everyone dropped whatever else they were holding and grabbed for onesies. He left the room to let them change, shaking his head as he went to the kitchen to make himself breakfast. Well, he supposed he’d have to make food for all of them, since they couldn’t exactly do it themselves anymore. When he set cereal and milk on the table along with bowls and spoons he didn’t even have to call; they just came running. All of them were dressed in the fuzzy pajamas. Lydia was in pink fabric with bows and ribbons on it, Allison was in light blue with teddy bears, and Erica was in yellow with hearts. Scott was in dark blue with frogs, Boyd was in grey with sharks, Jackson was in green with puppies, Isaac was in white with clouds or some kind of fluffy cotton things, and Stiles was in red with wolves on it.

Stiles was gloating about the pajamas he’d secured, and Scott was rubbing his nose and complaining. “Dude,” he whined, “You punched me!”

Stiles just shrugged. “I did what I had to. These are great!”

They all had some trouble climbing up into the seats around the table, but somehow they managed. Derek wasn’t sure whether to be amused or annoyed as he had to go around and pour everyone’s cereal and their milk. A few minutes later he had to go back to the kitchen in search of juice and cups for everyone, and they were all almost done eating by the time he sat down and started pouring his own bowl. Stiles had already finished one bowl and was demanding another, but Derek shook his head, trying and failing to focus on his own food. It was kind of hard to look away from the strange sight of his pack gathered around him, all of them just little kids.

After breakfast was over and Derek had washed the dishes he found them all in the living room. “What did we have planned for today?” he asked.

It was Lydia who answered. “Mostly board games and things. Which we can still play, if we want.”

But it looked like maybe being kids was getting to their heads, because suddenly Scott and Isaac appeared, hollering at each other and laughing loudly and playing _tag_. Allison was hiding behind the couch, and she jumped out every time they went by. They screamed every time, obviously shocked and pleased no matter how many times it happened, and when Allison caught Derek looking she smirked and loudly whispered, “I’m the hunter and they’re the prey.” Lydia had walked off and was now sitting with Jackson, and she filed her nails and sat on her bag while he dug through his bag beside her and grumbled about their current condition. Erica and Boyd were in the corner of the room and Derek was pretty sure they were playing house, which was disturbing and amusing all at once.

Stiles walked up to where Derek was seated on the couch just then. He’d just pulled out a stack of board games and had left them on the coffee table, but now he crawled up onto the couch and sat down beside Derek. He looked up after a moment, squinting his eyes for a while before he said, “You’re really tall.”

Derek snorted, shrugging. “You’re really small.”

Stiles pouted for a few seconds, and then he got to his feet. Like this his head was even with Derek’s, and he smirked proudly. “Nuh-uh,” he argued.

Derek rolled his eyes, reaching out on impulse and poking Stiles in the stomach. “Mmhmm.”

Stiles giggled, and then he launched himself at Derek, and somehow they ended up in a tickle fight of sorts. Which would have been crazy weird if they were in their normal bodies, but as a teenager and a little kid it wasn’t weird at all. It was actually fun. And no one else in the room even looked up when they heard Stiles’ peals of laughter and Derek’s occasional grunt when Stiles poked or elbowed him in just the right spot.

“I’m not ticklish,” he kept saying, but Stiles seemed determined to keep trying. And he did until Derek finally succeeded at tiring him out. Then the tickle fight kind of just died down and somehow Stiles ended up sprawled across his lap, hiccupping from all the laughter. Derek smirked triumphantly, but it was short-lived. Because a few minutes later he tried to get up and put in a movie, only Stiles wouldn’t get off. The kid pouted and frowned and whined and whimpered, and Derek was still arguing with him over it. He tried to pry Stiles off of him, but the younger boy was clinging to him as if for dear life and would not let go. Eventually he imitated Scott’s puppy-dog eyes so well that Derek gave in, heaving a sigh and actually picking Stiles up. He carried him over to the DVD player and got everything ready, and then carried him back to the couch. Stiles didn’t stop clinging to him until they sat down again, and even then the kid still had hands wrapped around Derek’s arm.

It didn’t surprise him at all when all of the pack came over and piled onto the couch together, and for once they all fit. The Amazing Spider-Man was on the screen, and most of them were really into it. Jackson and Lydia fell asleep on each other and Scott and Allison curled up around each other, and Erica and Boyd were lying across the back of the couch. Isaac was snuggled in between Scott and Derek, leaning his head on Scott’s shoulder but with his hand resting over Derek’s arm. Stiles was the only one who didn’t fall asleep and stayed up through the whole movie, and when it ended Derek got up as carefully as he could to turn it off and to move the kids around. Stiles whined and refused to let go, so Derek swung the kid onto his back and Stiles held on while Derek moved members of the pack to their various nests. The back of the couch wasn’t really a safe place for anyone to nap, so he moved Erica and Boyd onto their sleeping bags, doing the same with Lydia and Jackson. Scott, Isaac, and Allison spread out on the couch and took up all the space but were obviously comfortable and safe, so Derek let them be. Then he called Deaton, who promised to come over in a few minutes and as soon as he could.

Deaton talked to Derek and convinced Stiles to let go of him so that he could look him over and make sure he was fine, and after he looked over the entire pack he announced that all of them were perfectly healthy. “You’ve all been hit with some kind of curse. I’m not sure if it’s the kind that’ll wear off on its own or the kind you need a cure for,” he said, frowning. “A witch, maybe? Or a darach. An angry emissary could do the trick.” Then he shrugged. “Just keep everyone here for the holidays and the weekend. If anything changes, let me know.”

Derek nodded and watched him go, and they carried on with the rest of their day. It went by rather fast, actually. Derek made lunch for everyone, they all sat down and played games or napped or played make-believe with each other, Derek cooked dinner, everyone ate and then started to get sleepy again, they watched another movie until everyone was asleep, and Stiles refused to let go of Derek the entire time.

Everyone else wreaked havoc and got into trouble, but Stiles was so busy clinging desperately to Derek that he didn’t get the chance. Scott put an entire roll of toilet paper in the toilet and tried to flush it while Allison perched on the counter and watched, Lydia spilled nail polish on the floor in the living room, Jackson carved his initials in the underside of the coffee table where he had never been able to reach before and where he thought no one would notice, Isaac tripped and fell down the stairs and was fortunate that he still had his healing powers, Erica was continuously tearing off her clothes and streaking through the house screaming and acting rowdy, and Boyd just hung around and watched and did nothing to help when Derek had to deal with all of the problems everyone was causing.

And on top of it all, he had to tote Stiles around the entire time. The one time he peeled him off and set him down, Stiles just collapsed on the floor. The kid didn’t even throw a fit, just lay there looking up at Derek and crying and whimpering and looking like the most desolate thing on the planet, and Derek couldn’t bring himself to leave Stiles there. So he scooped him up again. Stiles spent the day riding around on Derek’s back, cradled in his arms, sitting in his lap, clinging to his legs, seated on his feet as he walked, and in general never not touching Derek unless one of them was in the bathroom. He did let go in order to set the second movie up while Derek changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt, and then everyone curled up in the living room to watch. This time was different because most of the pack nestled into their blankets and pillows and sleeping bags on the floor, and it was just Derek on the couch. Well, Derek and Stiles. Because Stiles was now like a permanent accessory on him, apparently.

Derek was on his back, turning his head in order to see the movie, and Stiles was on his chest. Derek didn’t mean to fall asleep like that, but the next thing he knew he was blinking awake because it was light out and someone was jumping up and down on his stomach. Stiles was the culprit, of course, and as he jumped he screamed at the top of his lungs, “IT’S CHRISTMAS, DEREK! WHERE ARE THE OTHER PRESENTS? DID SANTA PUT US ON THE NAUGHTY LIST?!”

Derek grabbed him finally, forcing him to stop and groaning because even with the supernatural healing, his abdomen ached. He sat up, still holding onto Stiles, and looked around the room. The rest of the pack was looking at him questioningly, and Derek shrugged. “All the presents are in my closet. You can all help.” Then, seeing how everyone started scurrying towards the stairs, Derek stood up, automatically shifting to hold Stiles on his hip and hastily amending, “ _But_! But only if you walk! No running allowed.”

There was pouting and complaining, but in the end everyone listened. Most of the gifts were already under the tree because the pack members had tucked them there as soon as they were bought and wrapped, but there were a few other things Derek had gotten for each of them and wanted to surprise them with. When everything was in order everyone gathered around the tree, and Derek started handing presents out. They waited until everyone had one and then Derek gave them the okay. Everyone tore through theirs except Lydia, who unwrapped them carefully and meticulously folded the paper afterwards. Stiles was perched on Derek’s lap – because where else would he be? – and Derek opened his own presents as everyone else opened theirs.

There were collective _ooh_ s and _ah_ s from the pack, but there was also a lot of grumbling and, “I can never use these if I never leave this house again,” and, “What if we never grow up?”

Stiles finished his presents first, and then he leaned back against Derek’s chest contentedly and just watched everyone else. When everyone had finished opening everything – including their stockings, because come on, Derek was a stickler for tradition – Erica stuck her hand under the tree and fished out an envelope. “Hey, what’s this?” She waved it in the air. The words _The Pack_ were written on the front, and Derek snatched it out of her hand before she could open it.

“Read it out loud!” Lydia commanded.

So he did.

“Dear Hales,” he frowned that whoever had written it was addressing the entire pack as Hales, but then something swelled in his chest and it didn’t matter so much. In fact it kind of made him proud, even if right now he was just the alpha of a bunch of kids who were physically fit for preschool. “It has come to my attention that while you are all annoying and every one of you played a part in hunting and nearly killing me, you all seem like some genuinely well-meaning people. So I’ve decided to spare your lives. I hope you enjoyed my little trick on Christmas Eve, but lucky for you all, now is the time for the tricks to end. I hope you’ll think twice before trying to kill me if fate ever brings me back to Beacon Hills again.” Derek paused, glancing around at the pack. Recognition was dawning on all of their faces. “I wish you and your pack the best of luck from now on, alpha Hale. -Esme.”

Derek took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

But no sooner had he finished reading than a squeal erupted from beside him. He turned to see that everyone was suddenly in their regular bodies again, and all of them had, unfortunately, outgrown their onesies at alarming rates. Naturally, then, everyone was naked. Scott and Isaac hurled themselves in front of Allison, who was scrambling for her blanket. Lydia was the one who had squealed, but between her and Jackson grabbing all over each other to cover one another, they were good. Boyd and Erica were just laughing, and Boyd was blushing but Erica didn’t seem to care that she was naked in front of everyone. She took her time getting over to her bag and finding clothes while everyone else was squeaking and squalling and struggling, and that was about when Derek realized that something heavy was on top of him.

He turned back to see Stiles, who was still on his lap. Only now Stiles was very naked and in a very teenage body, and Derek thanked whatever gods there were that when he dropped the letter in surprise it had landed over Stiles’ crotch. Because Derek was fine looking at the rest of his pack, if not a little grossed out, because they were like family. But Stiles . . . Derek’s dick may have twitched at all the pale skin pressed up against him, because Stiles was flailing a little but still had his head resting on Derek’s shoulder. Derek was just sitting there, frozen, and he didn’t snap out of it or move to get Stiles off of him until Stiles acquired a pillow from somewhere and hastily used it to cover himself instead of the letter.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a little hoarse and high pitched like he wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or amused.

Derek was trying very hard to keep his eyes on Stiles’ face, but it was difficult. His gaze kept dropping lower and trailing down over Stiles’ bare chest and stomach, and it was all he could do to keep his gaze flicking back to Stiles’ and hold it for a few seconds at a time. “Hi.” His mouth felt dry, and he wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with the feeling that now filled his chest, but he hadn’t felt it in a long time. He was nervous. Anxious. And maybe a little bit into Stiles. Maybe he’d always been a little bit into Stiles, he’d just never dared to even think about it before. But now . . . well, now he didn’t have much choice, did he? He kind of had to think about it. It had sort of fallen naked into his lap, hadn’t it?

He realized that he’d miraculously managed to stare at just one point on Stiles’ face for the entire time he was thinking, but then it occurred to him that he was staring at Stiles’ lips. He jerked his head up, realizing that he’d been biting his own lip and tearing his gaze away from the still-naked teen on his lap. He looked around and saw that Jackson and Lydia were in the corner murmuring about the pros and cons of being little again, Scott and Allison were cuddling on the couch and Isaac seemed to be either a weird part of their relationship or third-wheeling it really hard, and Erica and Boyd were busy hugging each other on the other side of the room behind the couch. Everyone else was wrapped up in themselves or each other and not paying any attention to the fact that Stiles was still literally on top of Derek.

Derek tensed when Stiles hugged him, staring down at him when the teen rested his head on Derek’s shoulder again. “Thanks,” was all Stiles said in explanation.

Derek was still frozen, but he forced himself to relax some. “For what?” he asked, voice husky.

Stiles laughed quietly. “For putting up with me. I’m sorry I was so clingy. I guess I was kind of terrified and needed someone to hold onto. And Scott wanted to play with everyone else, so . . .” he trailed off, blushing some.

Derek arched an eyebrow. “That’s why you clung to me like your life depended on it all day?”

Stiles’ blush deepened and he stared fixedly at Derek’s chest. “You got bigger,” he said suddenly, tapping Derek’s chest with his finger. “These teenage clothes don’t fit you anymore.”

Derek frowned, looking down for only a moment before he scanned Stiles’ face. “You’re trying to change the subject.” It wasn’t a question.

Stiles sighed like he was deep in thought and maybe even in some kind of pain, and Derek was just resigning to the fact that Stiles wasn’t going to tell him more when the teen suddenly blurted, “Maybe I’ve wanted to do it for a while. Cling to you, I mean.” He wouldn’t look up at Derek, and Derek just stared at him for a few seconds. He glanced around the room again, but no one was paying them any attention and everyone was still busy doing their own thing.

So Derek put his arms around Stiles, carefully lifting him off of Derek’s lap and setting him on the floor. Stiles looked crestfallen, but Derek tried not to let that get to him. He had to do it now, or he was going to lose his nerve. He took a deep breath, said, “Merry Christmas, Stiles,” and then he grabbed Stiles’ face, quickly but carefully pulling him in. He leaned in, tilting his head and pressing a quick kiss to Stiles’ lips. Then he leaned back and stood up, fleeing to his room to find some clothes that actually fit and leaving Stiles sitting there on the floor with nothing but a pillow keeping him from complete nakedness.

Derek changed into clothes his present self fit into, taking some time to shower and staring at himself in the mirror for a while. He appreciated now more than ever that he’d grown into his ears and his eyebrows, but also his teeth. He didn’t leave his room for a while, wanting to check on the pack but really not sure how to face Stiles now. So he called Deaton, explaining about the letter and that it was from a witch they’d tried to kill a while ago. Finally someone knocked on his door, and Derek knew it was Stiles before he even opened it.

They’d been through hell together, but he’d never seen Stiles looking so nervous. The kid was standing there with a mug in each hand, and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was a miracle he hadn’t spilled the liquid in the mugs yet, and he held one of them out tentatively when Derek opened the door. “I made hot chocolate for everyone, but you weren’t there. So I, uh . . . I brought you some.”

Derek raised his eyebrows, but he took the mug, doing his best to ignore it when their fingers brushed. He stepped aside, opening the door further because Stiles just kept hanging around and hadn’t just walked away. Stiles seemed pleasantly surprised and relieved by the invitation, and he stepped inside. He looked like he was shaking, and Derek wanted to reach out and touch him, to give him some kind of reassurance, but he couldn’t. Because of the mug in his hands and because he wasn’t sure that was what Stiles really wanted right then. So he moved to set the hot chocolate on his bedside table, turning to look at Stiles a moment later. “Thank you,” he said, filling the silence when Stiles didn’t.

Stiles nodded once, but it was a jerky movement. He was on the other side of the room, near Derek’s dresser, and he turned to set his mug on it, facing Derek a moment later. “I . . .” He took a few deep breaths, like he was giving himself a mental pep-talk, so Derek just let him and watched and waited. Finally Stiles asked, too loudly and too quickly and too high-pitched, “Why did you kiss me?”

Derek stayed perfectly still, not knowing how to answer. “Why do you think?” he countered, not quite willing to open up yet, or maybe just not knowing how.

Stiles stared at him for a few seconds, and then he said, “But did you do it because you wanted to, or because that’s what I wanted?”

Derek knew how to answer this time. “I don’t do things unless I want to,” he said, keeping his face impassive even though he’d just admitted a pretty monumental thing.

Stiles made a few jerky, disbelieving movements, and Derek just watched. But then the teen crossed the room in a few quick steps, stopping right in front of Derek and twitching like he couldn’t stand still for even a moment.

For a strange, uncharacteristic moment Derek pictured Stiles standing at the altar, dressed nicely and with his hair done but bouncing on his feet and twitching and squirming because even on his big day he couldn’t stand still. The thought made Derek smile, even if it was a small curl of his lips, and then he shuffled forward until he would be stepping on Stiles’ feet if he moved any closer. “I didn’t kiss you because it’s what you wanted,” he said. “I mean, that was the deciding factor. But I did it because it’s what I wanted.”

Stiles was smiling now, beaming quietly up at him and obviously trying to contain his happiness at Derek’s statement. He leaned a little closer, trailing his fingers over Derek’s chest for the briefest of moments. “Maybe you should kiss me again,” he said quietly, looking up at Derek a moment later.

Derek’s expression softened but he was no longer smiling, and then he _did_. At first they were all bumping noses and clashing teeth and nothing but a mess, and Derek felt kind of disappointed because they weren’t even good at _this._ But then Derek grabbed Stiles’ face and realigned them, and when this time when they kissed it was actually close to perfect and Derek realized that _holy shit, they were really good at this_. Stiles tasted like hot chocolate and peppermint and _Stiles_ , and Derek didn’t care to wonder what his mouth tasted like because it didn’t matter.

The kiss lasted a good long while, and it would have gone on if they hadn’t been interrupted by another knock on the door. They broke apart, panting, and it was Scott’s voice that brought them back to the rest of the world.

“Stiles?” He sounded unsure. “Listen, dude, I know you’re totally into Derek and you were freaking out earlier for some reason, but you came up her like half an hour ago to give him his drink. And you sort of disappeared. And we can totally hear you.” Then he cleared his throat and said, “Derek, I know my best friend is awesome, but I don’t want either of you to die. Please don’t forget that he’s not eighteen yet _and_ he’s the sheriff’s son. I don’t want to see either of you getting shot.”

Derek snorted and there was a giggle from the other side of the door, and one glance at Stiles told him both of them were wondering how long the entire pack had been outside the door listening.

“Oh my god, you’re all so lame,” Jackson growled, and he could be heard stalking down the hall.

He was closely followed by the sound of clicking heels, and everyone heard the sound of Lydia whacking Jackson’s arm and saying with false sweetness, “Shut up,” and then more seriously, “It’s cute.”

Derek still had his arms around Stiles and Stiles was still pressed against him, they just weren’t kissing anymore. “Thanks for the reminder, Scott,” Derek said.

His eyes widened and he looked panicked when Stiles pulled a devastated face and added, “Yeah, thanks. I guess we’ll have to put our clothes back on.”

Scott made a gagging noise and Stiles leaned up to kiss Derek’s nose. “We are pretty cute,” he murmured, and Derek could feel the heat radiating from both of their faces.

Derek smirked, nodding. “I’d agree, but that word isn’t in my vocabulary.”

Stiles just rolled his eyes and pulled him in for another kiss.


End file.
